A human heart
by Lotten
Summary: Remus Lupin wasn't allowed to grow up with his parents, but was kidnapped, and has spent all his life in a small, humanhating werewolf society. But he's about to find out that humans aren't the monsters he has been raised to despise...
1. Twisted

This fiction is written by me and Alexita in co-operation. So all the credit is not supposed to go to me XD

Well, guess what? I'm not Rowling. Neither is Alex. So, we don't own a thing. Nope. Nothing. We're SO fanfiction-writers. And slash-writers too. Surprised?

HPB-SPOILERS! Not anything major, but you don't want to read this if you haven't read the sixth book. Take my advice for it.

So, here we goo…

XxXxX

Chapter one

Twisted

"We are all candy covered on the outside,

peel away the shell and we're frightened on the inside.

We are all angry, angry on the outside,

Peel away the shell, and we're rotten on the inside."

- Jack off Jill, Lollirot

_When Remus Lupin was five years old, he was bitten by the werewolf Fernir Greyback. Three days later, a man sent out by Fernir kidnapped him, bringing him to the society the infamous werewolf had created with a group of friends of his own species, and a group of children already bitten and kidnapped. There they were trained in attack, in using the enhanced strength given to them by their condition, but most of all they were taught to fear and hate humans. This continued through the years, until Remus himself was old enough to teach the younger children. Then he was fifteen. He was, needless to say, a top student. He had already been allowed to go on a mission, successfully managing to bite the two-year-old boy Nathan Klein. The boy was quickly recovering, and had taken quite a liking to Remus, of course not connecting him with the big, scary dog that had attacked him._

_By a completely pointless coincidence, it was exactly ten years since the day after Remus had been bitten, that his life was going to take a new turn._

XxXxX

He was leaving one of the wooden huts where they spent the winter. It was not very warm, but werewolves can handle much lower temperatures than humans. That was why they usually did not wear very much unless they were on underground missions in the wizarding world. Animal skins were fine for covering up what needed to be covered up, otherwise there was no point wearing anything at all.

The funny thing was that humans called them primitive, for using the simplest method available.

There was shouts and bangs of uncontrolled magic from the other side of the camp. Mildly curious, and not having anything to do in the first place, Remus shrugged and went to investigate.

The source of most of the racket seemed to be a human boy in Remus' own age. Although they had stripped him of his wand, magic was still crackling wildly in the air around him, and it took two of the Hunting Team to hold him down. This impressed Remus. Humans were usually weak.

"Does a spell lend it the strength, pack leader?" he asked respectfully of Fernir, who was watching the scene with an amused smile pulling at his taut lips.

"No. They get like that when they are defending their young."

Remus looked up at the human again, tears were running down his face and he was shouting various obscenities at the Hunters. Remus frowned dispassionately. He had never seen a human act quite like that. It was almost as if it had feelings.

The next second, the human had broken free, and moving with surprising speed, it had tackled Remus to the ground in no time at all.

"What have you done to Regulus, you bastards!" it shouted, trying to pry his hands against the ground. "I want my brother back!"

Then Fernir was there, lifting the human off Remus like it was nothing but a puppy and throwing it away. It hit a tree with a soft thump, and with a violent exhalation of breath, passed out.

Remus rubbed his aching wrists, slightly surprised at this odd behaviour. "Why didn't it flee" he demanded to know, as one of the Hunters helped him to his feet. "It had a chance, why didn't it try to run?"

Fernir shrugged. "Who knows how their minds work. But as I said, that one was defending one of their young. They are even more unpredictable then."

"Where is its brother then?"

"The Fetchers have it. He followed them here and attempted a rescue. Quite crafty for one of them, actually. After all, he survived in our forest unnoticed for a whole week."

Remus nodded, slowly. "How young is the brother?"

"Seven years. Quite old, of course, but he can still be tutored in our ways. As a matter of fact, I am putting him in your group. You have quite a hand with the young ones. You win their liking quickly."

"And what of the older one?"

"Well, HE can hardly be trained, can he? We will keep him for a while, as a… toy. Then we'll dispose off him."

Remus grimaced with distaste. "Knock yourselves out. Myself, I find it disgusting. I can't believe what anyone can see in such a… creature…" With that, he bowed one last time to his pack leader, and left. He was going to take a bath. The stench of human had stuck in his clothes.

XxXxX

Regulus was scared. He was still bleeding all over his stomach, the people taking care of him dressed oddly and barely spoke, and the whole place smelled weird. It smelled like dogs and poop and like blood. And Sirius had been there, and he had been shouting, and then they had dragged him away. And the other kids seemed suspicious, and they were also wearing strange clothes that smelled of wet rugs and more blood, and he wanted very much for Sirius to be there NOW.

"Hello there." Regulus jumped with fright, and backed away from the tall shape looming over him. He tried to speak, but only a small squeak escaped his lips. But then the stranger leaned over, and on closer inspection, he seemed not to be older than Sirius. Regulus was a little calmed by this likeness with his brother, but not much. Like all the other People, this one was dressed only in a thing wrapped around his waist, going down to slightly above his knees. He looked strong, even if he wasn't as tall as Sirius, and his eyes were really odd. They were a very dark yellow. When he thought about it, didn't everybody around here have eyes in some kind of yellow or orange? He wasn't sure.

"Don't be scared" the stranger told him in a soft, soothing voice. "We're not going to hurt you. We are here to help you. You are one of us, now."

"One of who?" Regulus blurted, but then cowered, afraid that he had said something bad and would be punished.

"One of the Lycans" the yellow-eyed boy told him. "There are very few of us, and we are very special. You have been very lucky."

Regulus was going to point out that he didn't feel very lucky at all, and that he wanted to be home, and do you know that you smell weird, but decided against it. Instead, he said:

"Where did Sirius go?"

"Who's Sirius?" the older boy asked.

"My brother" said Regulus, proudly.

Remus sighed. "I see. Well, he saw that you were fine here, and he left you in our care. He won't be back."

The seven-year-old glared at him. "I don't believe you. They took him away from me. He was yelling."

The other boy smiled. "Well, he didn't know who we were then. But we have explained everything to him, and he understands now. He isn't here anymore. But enough about that. Your name is Regulus, is that correct?"

The boy nodded. "Yes. Regulus Black."

"Your last name doesn't matter anymore" the older boy chided. "Only that you are Regulus. When you have gone through your training, you will also have a pack-name, but for now, Regulus is sufficient."

Not really sure what 'sufficient' meant, but refusing to admit that to this stranger, Regulus bit his lip uncertainly. His mother always said that it was really important to be a Black. He didn't understand this now.

"What's your name?" he finally ventured.

"Remus. My pack-name is Moony. I am going to be your teacher, Regulus. I am going to take care of you now."

But Sirius is supposed to take care of me, Regulus though, but he didn't dare say it aloud. He wasn't sure what to think of Remus-Moony yet. He talked gently, and he didn't have a bad smile, and he hadn't hit him so far. He wasn't scary, but Regulus wasn't sure if he was nice either. He just was, for now. Like trees or ground or weather. Regulus would have to have some time to find out what to make of him.

XxXxX

His whole body aching, Sirius was watching the stars through the cracks in the roof of the primitive shelter, trying to ignore that he was freezing to death. At least, he though bitterly, if he died tonight he wouldn't have to endure the… things that had happened to him today once more.

He had never had any prejudices towards werewolves, had only felt sorry for them for suffering under their illness. But these… these were just monsters. They were cruel and controlling and cold. He once more called to memory the boy in his own age, and shivered. He had looked at him like was he… a spider, or something equally disgusting. Like he longed to crush him under his foot. The boy had referred to him as "it". Yes, Sirius had been aware that rebel groups existed, and that they didn't think very highly of humans, but he had no idea that it was this bad.

And now Regulus was to become one of them.

And he was going to freeze to death here, or suffer their so-called games with him until he went mad.

Sirius didn't want to die. He was fun-loving and mostly happy young man, with good friends and bearable grades. Dying was very far down on his list of things to worry about. And now he didn't have a chance of survival, and this scared him more than he wanted to admit. But worse still was that dying meant not being able to get Regulus out of this hellhole. He had never been able to protect his little brother from being brainwashed by his parents; now he would not be able to protect Regulus from being brainwashed by a group of mentally dysfunctional werewolves.

"Food, human" a soft, contemptuous voice said, and something landed beside him. Sirius looked up to see the young werewolf boy in his own age that he remembered from later. He was looking down at him with cold eyes. At least he had not been part of the group that had raped him. It was always something. But seeing now how the other boy looked at him, Sirius started to suspect that the boy had refrained from joining by the same reason that Sirius would not have sex with an animal.

He looked down at the red, bloody lump beside him, and grimaced with distaste.

"Are you expecting me to eat raw meat?" he wondered aggressively.

"Yes. Unless you want to starve, that is what I expect you to eat, human. But it is, of course, your own choice." He looked like this amused him, like Sirius refusing to eat was some kind of a joke. It was frightening, and at the same time it was simply infuriating. Didn't he understand what he was doing? Didn't he understand the meaning of a life? Was he so completely heartless?

Sirius made a disgusted noise, pushing the offending meat as far away from him possible. "I'll rather starve. As a matter of fact, I hope I'll die as soon as possible. Your little friends have disgusting habits."

"I know" said Remus, looking at him in a way that made Sirius too angry to care about the consequences.

"You look at me like I'm a monster even if I haven't done you a thing, but you and your friends have kidnapped my brother, you are fully prepared to let me starve to death, and you think it is having sex with a human is disgusting, rather than the concept of rape. If anyone is a monster around here, it is you!"

Remus twitched in surprise, but soon enough regained his composure, sneering coldly down at the prisoner. "What a very human thing to say. Judging without knowing. We've done your brother a great favour, human."

Sirius gritted his teeth. "I've got a name."

The werewolf laughed mirthlessly. "Names, human, are about respect. And for your kind, I have none."

"Then you are no better than the human that hunt werewolves for fun" Sirius spit at him, wanting desperately to do harm now.

And the only thing he could remember later was Remus turning into a blur of speed, before everything turned black.

XxXxX

The doorbell buzzed angrily, and James took the stairs in one great leap, landing heavily on the doormat. "I've got it!" he yelled over his shoulder to his parents, before flinging the door open.

What he saw on the other side made his chin drop. Of all things he had never expected HER to stand on his doorstep. Nor to actually look worried. Worried in an angry, tight-lipped way, but still worried.

"Uhm… Mrs Black? What gives me the…honour?"

She gave him a sharp glance, making him feel like he was shrinking. "Is my son here?" she asked abruptly.

"What, Sirius? No. I though he was at home." He saw her bite her teeth together, and a surge of burning worry rose inside him. "He's gone? You don't know where he is? Is he in trouble?" he asked, all in one breath.

"I wouldn't ask you if I knew where they were or if they were in trouble, you stupid boy!" she sharply shot at her, but now her own worry was all too evident in her pale-green eyes, making their icy surface crackle slightly.

And James had noticed something else.

"They?" he wondered weakly. "Regulus is also gone?"

"Yes."

She is a mother, James suddenly realised with a start. An awfully bad, respectless mother, yes, but she's still their MOTHER. And now they're gone. Oh.

"How long have they been gone?" he asked, now in a much gentler tone.

"One week and a day."

James gasped, staring at her. "They've been…" Now I get what made her desperate enough to come here, he thought a bit wryly, before the chilling fear that her words brought caught up with him. "But why didn't you ask before?" he asked weakly.

She glared balefully at him. "As Sirius has a habit of leaving his home without asking permission, I thought that was the case right now. As for Regulus, I could not find any reason to why he would be here."

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, James realised that she was right. And now Sirius had been gone for a week. Anything could have happened to him.

"James? What's this?" his father asked, standing in the doorway to the kitchen and looking worried.

"Sirius is gone, dad. He's been gone for a week. Er… this is his mother." He added, nodding at the rigid woman in the doorway.

"Oh. Mrs Black." He bowed curtly. "I am sad to hear about your son."

"Sons" the woman corrected in a clipped voice.

And what followed was something James would turn over several times in his mind afterwards, to finally come out with the conclusion that his father was more than worth all the respect that James had ever shown him. He managed to talk Mrs Black into entering their kitchen, even having a cup of mudbloodlover-contaminated tea, and then talked at length to her, finding out more details about the disappearance of the brothers. His mother, who had always abhorred and despised Mrs Black, an opinion founded on what she had been told by Sirius, sat now at her side repeating her condolences, offering more tea, and even putting a comforting hand on Mrs Blacks bony shoulder. And when the other woman then twitched and looked at his mother like she thought she was mad, she held her ground, smiling bravely in the face of that ice-cold stare.

I think I am going to clean my room tonight, James thought through a shocked haze, before he was once more clubbed over the head by the thought that he kept throwing away from himself, but always returned like a determined boomerang:

Sirius was missing. He could be harmed. He could be dead.

And his brother was gone with him.

And Mrs Black was scared.

And Sirius would perhaps never come back…

In just a few hours, the world of James Potter had been destroyed.

It was going to get worse.

XxXxX

When Sirius woke up, he was so stiff from cold that just drawing breath hurt enough to bring tears to his eyes. Tears that immediately froze in the blistering morning air.

Trembling violently, waves of nausea rising in his throat, he sat up. His teeth were clattering together, and from his ankles and down he was completely numb. His fingers were in the same sorry state. And he was more hungry than he had ever been in his whole life. To put it bluntly, he was desperately fearing for his own life.

Desperate wizards have a tendency to lose control…

There was a crackle of raw magic, and a fire sprung to life in the middle of the air. Instinctively, the boy reached out towards it, before his wits caught up with him. Warming up frost-bitten limbs, it told him, has nasty consequences. Blisters are created. The harmed part turns blue and is rendered useless. He wouldn't be able to use either his hands or feet, and that was not very good if he was given even the tiniest chance to escape from here.

Escape with Regulus.

So instead of warming his limbs, he tried to soak up as much heat from the fire as possible from a distance. With a twig he then lifted the dirty, frozen piece of meat from the ground, and stuck it into the fire. Impatiently, he watched it sizzle and pull together, willing the fire to grow hotter, but without any real emphasis. He didn't want to burn the only food he was likely to get in a while.

It almost started to look like it was done, when Remus came in. When he saw Sirius staring at him like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car, he chuckled coldly. With a flick of what Sirius recognised as his own wand, he put out the fire. With another flick, the sad scrap of half-cooked meat was snatched from the end of the stick. It landed by Remus' feet. Making sure that Sirius saw what he was doing, the werewolf then slowly and deliberately stepped on the meat.

The human boy watched through some sort of dull, apathetic haze. Pain wrenched at his intestines, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.

Nothing.

Not a sound.

And Remus still watched him with eyes that were neither hateful or cruel. The only thing they contained was indifference and vague disgust. That was all. He had just swatted a mite, stepped on a bug. Crushed a life so small and pointless that any other emotions were a waste of time and energy.

"You eat like us, human" said the boy simply. "Or you don't eat at all."

And a sadness and a fatigue larger than anything befell Sirius, swept heavily over his numbed senses. This boy would never be able to see him as a person, none of these people that lived here would. Their minds had been so twisted and bent and sharpened down to a needlepointed core, that they would never be able to change. And soon enough, Regulus would be one of them. Sirius could never save him, not when he was as weak as this. There was no hope for either of them.

And he would spend his last days frightened and humiliated, crawling in the dirt of this hut, clinging on to life like the animal every human was proved to be when she was stripped of everything she wanted and needed.

What would James say if he saw him like this? Sirius thought, as frosty tears – tears sprung from an inner, deeper pain this time – clung to his lashes. James looked up to him, like he looked up to James. Like friends do. What would Peter do if he saw the person he must surely believe to be unbreakable in this state?

Oh, how Sirius longed for his two friends, longed for them to be there despite the horrible humiliation. He wanted them to take care of him, to tell him that everything was going to be fine. He wished their parents could be here, too, for he longed for a grownup to take this situation out of his hands. Even his mother would do, for she would not give in to her weakness like he had done to his. Yes, even his stupid, selfish parents would be better than this sudden, vast loneliness. They were strong and capable and proud, could handle this for him when he was too weak.

Anyone but this cold being that could not find it possible to feel compassion or understanding with a human.

"I know" said Sirius, weakly "that you probably will not care what I say, but I beg you to let me see my brother one more time. I won't tell him what this place really is, I will just tell him that he's safe here, that I have to go away. Please."

Remus thought: The small one still doesn't trust us. If I give him the chance to see his brother again, and his brother tells him that we have been telling the truth, I will have won him over completely. And then they can do what they want with him, it will not matter in the least.

He nodded. "Fine. I will get you some clothes to wear when you talk to him. Just to show that you are fine. And you are going to tell him that you are. That you want him to be here, that he is very privileged to get this chance. Do you understand?"

And then he turned away, grimacing at the sound of wild sobbing that erupted from the small, curled-up shape.

He would be glad when this was over.


	2. False face must hide

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the idea of this particular alternate universe. The characters and the world belongs to the Almighty Rowling, and they always will. I'm just torturing them for fun, and generally taking out any additional aggressions on them XD

Warnings: Broken-down Sirius, heartless (but still half-naked…) Remus, annoyingly cute Regulus, and rape.

XxXxX

Chapter Two

False face must hide...

"Take not the heart for granted

that it always may be in your sight,

for ye do not love the left hand

until you miss the right."

- Poem

xxx

"Sirius!"

The older boy bent down, slowly to prevent his head from spinning too much, allowing the small boy to rush into his arms. In the background, he saw the young werewolf with the tawny hair grimace with disgust. Regulus was touching a human. He was touching something flawed, something imperfect. Sirius pushed back his anger, for it was pointless. Better to make sure that Regulus was happy…

"Hi there, mite" he said, ruffling the hair of the young boy. "It seems you'll stay here for quite a while." He smiled bravely at his brother, who watched him seriously with those vulnerable, childishly wide-open green eyes.

"Are you going to visit me?" he wondered in a small voice.

"I don't know if I can" Sirius answered, pain clawing at his heart for this horrible betrayal of trust. "And you are going to be far too busy to have time for me. You've already started your studies here, haven't you?" He told Regulus what he had been ordered to say, and felt like the lowest creature on earth for it.

Regulus nodded a bit uncertainly. "Remus teaches me" he said, gesturing vaguely towards the young werewolf standing guard over them. "I like Remus" he said, and the way he said it made it seem like a question. He was asking for his brother's approval.

Sirius forced a smile, his heart shrinking with sadness. Regulus was soon going to be lost. He had learnt early to trust authorities. His mother had seen to that.

"That's great to hear" he said, nodding. All he could do to keep from crying was to remind himself that he did this for Regulus, to make him happy. But it wasn't easy. His eyes were burning, his heart cringing at every forced word, his lunges aching from the effort of keeping back that first, revealing sob. "You… you should be very proud of being here. It means you are very special."

Regulus met his gaze, wonder written in his eyes. "More special than being a Black?" He wondered, awed.

"More special than being human" Sirius replied brokenly. His brother looked like he didn't understand, but he didn't give him time to ask.

"I'll be away for some time now, Regulus" he said, begging his voice not to betray exactly how long he would be gone. "And you know I would never leave you somewhere where you wouldn't be happy, right?"

Regulus nodded, trusting his big brother like he trusted no one else. Sirius swallowed, trying to rid himself of the hard, painful knot that was tying up his throat.

"You'll be fine here. R-Remus will take care of you. Everything will be just great. You just remember that I love you, and I'll… I'll come for you when it all ends. I'll be waiting for you, right? So you just be brave and stay here where everyone will take care of you, and I'll go away for a while. Just a while. Okay?"

Remus squirmed a bit, as if he could detect that there was something wrong with this situation. Maybe it was the fact that his brother's smile seemed in some way painful, maybe it was that those always so secure and strong hands were trembling ever so slightly now. But Sirius knew that Regulus wouldn't know what Sirius had really meant with his words – painfully wrought from the clump of burning metal that was his soul – until it was far, far too late. He didn't have it in him to distrust Sirius when he said that everything was going to be fine.

He didn't want to distrust him.

Gathering up his brother in a firm embrace one last time, and letting a treacherous tear be hastily wiped away by the small boy's black locks, Sirius then let himself look into those olive-green eyes one last time. Trust shone bright and beautiful back at him. Regulus would wait for him. He would wait, and wait, until he finally realised that no one would come. His brother only hoped that there would be somebody with him the, somebody to hold Regulus like he, Sirius, had once done.

"Whatever happens, Regulus, you know that your brother will always come for you in the end." He forced the words forward, for his throat seemed to have constricted in a violent protest.

And then he let Regulus go, stood up and walked away. He did not turn around to say goodbye, for if Regulus saw his tears he would call his big brother back, and if he did that, Sirius knew he would have to obey. And then no amount of self-control in the world could make him let go of the child.

It would have to be this way. Humans find strength that they do not know that they posses when they fight for their young.

xxx

"Out of curiosity, human..." a soft voice begun. Sirius looked up to see a pair of blazing yellow orbs looking down at him, looking for all the world like amber reflecting a ray of sunlight.

"…why did you not try to tell him what kind of place this is when you were close to him? I was sure you'd try cheating us by whispering."

Sirius shook his head, tiredly. "And what would be the point of that? I would still have to die, he would still have to stay. Nothing would have changed."

Remus frowned. "You would have turned him against us. Caused us great trouble, as a matter of fact." Why then, he asked himself, did I still let him? Why did I refuse to see the most obvious thing for the human to do? And why didn't he do that?

Sirius sent him a scornful look, wrapping his arms around his legs in feeble hopes of keeping some warmth. "Yeah. It also would have scared the shit out of Regulus. And he would have to live among people that he thinks killed his brother, rather than to think that he lives among people who will take care of him. Great plan. Really. I get my selfish revenge on you, and my brother gets to spend years and years in the earthly equivalent of hell. Why didn't I think of that?"

He spat on the ground in front of Remus' feet. The werewolf narrowed his eyes. "So instead, you told him to trust your enemies."

"My enemies?" Sirius wondered, bitterly. "Oh, but you are wrong. I never saw anyone of you as my enemy. It's you that have decided that I am YOUR enemy. I never had anything to do with it. I didn't want an enemy when I came here. I wanted to have my brother back. And if I can't have him back, then the least I can do is to make sure he is happy."

"You lied to your brother" said Remus, wondering why on earth he was arguing with this human. He already knew what he thought about these pathetic creatures. He didn't need to explain himself.

"Yes. Don't think it was easy." Sirius spat, and then continued with his voice dripping venom from every word: "But what am I saying? Of course you think it was easy for me. Even though I bet you could see that I was damn nigh staring to cry then. That was no personal vanity hurting, that was me having to lie to my little brother. But you don't believe that. Could you teach me how to do that? Could you teach me how to read a book by just looking at its cover?"

Once more, the boy in front of him was crying. Remus wrinkled his nose in disgust. Humans were such weak creatures. He quickly silenced the small part of him that wondered if he himself would be able to keep from crying in the same situation. It was different. He was different from a human, of course he was. Such nonsense.

It still amazed him, though. It amazed him that this human had not simply lashed out with what means he had to harm its captors. Sometimes, this one gave him the uncanny impression that it actually had emotions. Well, he knew that some animals were capable of such feelings as attachment and anger, but in the case of humans, it was very unsure. Highly improbable. He supposed it was just because this one was in his own age.

Then he saw the look of the human change, realised that as its defensive mode, the look he took on when threatened. He turned around to see Fernir and some other males of high ranking from the Pack. They were grinning expectantly, but his pack leader was frowning at him.

"Are you talking to the human?" he wondered, his rough voice admonishing.

"I was curious" Remus admitted. "It almost shows some signs of intelligence sometimes. But I suppose that is only instinct acting for it." He shrugged carelessly.

"It is" was the short, final answer. "Now, Moony, it is time for you to leave. Unless you want to join, of course."

Behind his back, he heard a small, terrified noise escape from the human. Not being able to resist throwing a look at it, he saw that it had scrambled to the other edge of the hut, trembling violently and drawing rapid and shallow gasps of breath. It looked like it was on its good way to unconsciousness. The small wave of something that was almost like sympathy that for a moment befell him, he drowned out immediately. It had no conception of humiliation, only of the pain. And if a human was in pain, so what? It was just a prey. You didn't ask your prey's permission before striking. That was not how the world worked.

"No thank you, pack leader" he answered politely, but he couldn't help letting his disgust show in his voice. "I wouldn't want to touch that thing to save my life." He bowed curtly, walking calmly away from there. But as soon as they were all inside, he started running. He didn't really know why.

All he knew was that he wanted to be well out of earshot when the screaming started.

xxx

Peter woke with a start, his heart racing and his body tense as a spring.

"What?" mumbled James, squinting sleepily at him. Peter had taken up residence at the Potter's house since Sirius' disappearance. Maybe it was because of some hazy human instinct to gather up in face of the storm. Or maybe just because he was just as worried sick as James was, and it helped both boys a bit to at least have someone to talk to.

"Nightmare" gasped Peter, and James groaned.

"Try not to wake ME up next time."

Peter didn't answer, but instead turned away so that James would not see that he had cried in his sleep. That, he reflected tiredly, would probably be like walking around with a wet copper funnel on the top of your head during a thunderstorm.

But for once, James didn't feel in the mood to tease anyone at all.

"Hey Pete" he said, softly. "How are you?"

"I… the nightmare was very… vivid."

"Vivid how?" wondered his friend, sitting up and watching Peter with his head gently tilted to one side.

Peter, who wasn't very used to this sort of rapt attention, blushed awkwardly and fiddled with his pillow. "It was so very cold, darkness was falling, and the ground under me was damp. I was sitting outside some kind of primitive shelter. And I could…" he swallowed, this was the worst part, and the memory was still raw and bleeding. "I could hear Sirius. He was crying. His voice was sort of harsh, like he had screamed too much, and now couldn't anymore. And he was… begging someone. He asked this person to stop. He sounded like he was begging for mercy."

James shuddered, pulling his blanket tighter around his body. Sirius begging for mercy wasn't something he would particularly want to hear, and he could very well understand that Peter was upset. To Sirius, begging meant giving up, and he would never do that unless something awful had happened to him.

"Look" he said, placing a clumsy hand on his smaller friend's shoulder. "It was all a bad dream, right? Dreams aren't real."

"How can you know that?" Peter asked in a small voice. "Some dreams are real. You don't have to be a Seer to get visions when someone close to you is in danger. My dad got one just before mum died. Even muggles can get those."

James bit his lip, knew that Peter was right. But he didn't want it to be true. He wanted Sirius to just suddenly turn up, grin that wide grin of his and tell them of this great adventure that he had managed to drag Regulus along on, and they could all laugh and that would be IT. He didn't want Sirius to be afraid, somewhere. He didn't want Sirius to be in pain. He wanted Sirius to be fine, to come back.

Looking up, he saw the same desperate wish reflected in Peter's eyes, and he wanted so very much to say something that would make everything alright. For both of their sakes.

It was odd, really. When Sirius was around, he sometimes even forgot that Peter existed. Sometimes, he wished for the smaller boy to go away, wanted to be alone with his other friend. All of a sudden, that thought seemed to him horribly selfish. Peter was here with him. Peter was just as worried about Sirius as he was. What kind of right did James have to decide that Sirius belonged more to him, like a child with a precious toy that he doesn't want to share? And besides, where should Peter go, if not with them? He had no other friends, and was that something he could be blamed for? James had never bothered to really become friends with someone else in their year. What made him better?

Such introspect thoughts were a bit out-of-place in his otherwise quite carefree view of the world, but a lot of things had changed. He suspected that you grew up a bit when you were suddenly faced with the possible death of a friend. And he was a bit ashamed that it had to take something as dire as that.

"There is nothing we can do, Pete" he answered gently. "But if you get those dreams again, tell me. Maybe we'll be able to solve this together. And if not… at least it feels better to have someone to tell, right?"

Peter smiled bleakly, suddenly feeling safer. It was as if something had changed with James, although he could not really find words for it. He just felt more… appreciated, he supposed. And the other boy not poking fun at him for being a whimp showed that a change had occurred in his life.

If only Sirius had been there… Everything would've been just perfect then. If Sirius just came home, everything would be alright.

It should be taken notice of that when Peter thought 'home', he did not mean number twelve, Grimmauldplace, but to wherever James and Peter was. That was a token of real friendship, even more so because it was unintended and not even noticed by himself.

Without further words, they both tried to go back to sleep, calmed by the subconscious knowledge that they at least were not waiting alone.

xxx

"Remus?"

The young man looked up, surprised to see Regulus standing in the doorway, looking unsure and a little bit scared. 'Can I do this?' his eyes asked. 'Is this okay, or will I be punished?'

"Yes?" He asked, sitting up. The boy twiddled nervously with the hem of his deerskin colt, and his arm was bent in a way that suggested that he very much missed some kind of comforting item. A toy, or something similar, probably.

"I… I can't sleep" he mumbled with his eyes cast down. "I… miss Sirius. And I'm not used to not sleeping at home. And it's so dark."

Remus gracefully got to his feet, stepping over to stand at Regulus' side. "Look out" he said, pointing at the darkness.

"I won't see anything" the boy said, his eyes still firmly fixed on the ground.

"Try" urged Remus, gently.

Hesitantly, the boy looked up, his eyes widening slightly as he stared into the night. "I can see" he whispered. "It's still dark, but I can see. It's like the shadows have become… thinner."

"That's because you are a lycan" said Remus, truthfully. "Lycans are stronger and faster than ordinary humans. And we can see even though it is night. We are very special, Regulus. We don't need to be afraid of anything."

The boy's cheeks coloured from silent mortification, and he crossed his arms over his chest in an obvious demonstration of defiance.

"I still am" he said, his voice trembling involuntarily.

"You are new here" Remus said simply. "You do not know us, nor do you know our ways. But you will see. You are one of us now. We are all family."

Maybe it was just imagination, but the boy tensed a bit at the word 'family', as if he was scared, at the exact same moment as his mouth said something else. "Family is safety" was the words that came out of his mouth. But the words were a bit awkward, and when he said it, it was like trying to twist a key in a lock where it didn't fit. The words belonged to someone else, not him. What he felt safety in, perhaps, was to repeat this practised phrase, rather than its contents. Or that was how it seemed to Remus.

The older boy put a firm hand on Regulus' shoulder, bending down. "Respect is safety" he said softly, meeting the warm green gaze that he was faced with. "And in time, you'll learn to respect us, as your fellows will respect you, and as you will earn the respect of your elders. Do you understand?"

"Maybe" said the boy, twiddling even more with his colt.

"Maybe is good enough for now." A smile, rare as gold and with the same warm glow, made Remus' face seem much younger for a moment. The eyes seemed to catch a ray of light that wasn't there, and the almost invisible lift in the corners of his mouth seemed to contain merriment in its purest form. The moment soon passed, but Regulus was caught. He knew he would do anything to make Remus proud, just so that he could smile like that to him again. For a moment, the same safety that he felt when Sirius hugged him had flooded his heart, and that safety meant everything to Regulus. Not thinking about what he was doing, only acting on impulse like the small child he was, he flung his arms around the older boy.

"I like you" he said in a firm voice. "You're kind."

A bit shocked, Remus returned the embrace of the small, trusting creature. It was an odd thought that Regulus had not been this pure once, had been far less than animal until the moment he was bitten. How could so much good, beautiful feelings accumulate in a body from one instant to the next? It was a mystery.

He tried to cut out the next thought, but it wouldn't go away, kept buzzing around his head like a persistent fly:

And what about his love for his brother, then? Did that simply appear, the moment he was bitten? That doesn't make any sense, does it? Why would he start feeling love for a human as soon as he was able of emotions? It just wouldn't fit.

Remus had never thought like that before, had never wondered about the feelings of the young he took care of. That was not his place. He was supposed to support and help the young, supposed to tutor them and admonish them when they did wrong, nothing else. And then this brother of Regulus' had turned up and complicated everything. Things had become difficult that once had been simple.

As always, with humans.


	3. Indifferent

Chapter Three

Indifferent

"_Treacled in apathy_

_All worries swept away_

_By one so simple act of annihilation_

_And I've not cried like this_

_And I've never felt this calm"_

- "Meet murder my angel"

xxxxx

Sirius forced himself to drink even more, hoping that it would eventually wash away the iron-tinged taste of the raw meat they had force-fed him with, hoping that if he just filled his stomach with water, maybe he wouldn't have to eat in a very long while. A vain hope, but at the moment, he was reduced to nothing but hopes of that kind. And what he hoped – and feared – more than anything else, was that he would finally be allowed to die. If he died, at least he would never ever have to remember what they had done to him. What he had been to them, how they had looked at him with hungry eyes and touched him with hands that were cold and demanding, and how they had made him plead for them to stop, over and over again…

Tears came unbidden to his eyes, and he wondered wretchedly if he hadn't cried more during this brief visit in hell, than during his whole life. Biting down a sob, he tried to dry the salty liquid away from his face, as it would freeze there and cool him down even more than before. He was already ill, and at times he could barely breath for coughing. He could only communicate through whispers, he was freezing even harder than before and therefore suspected himself to have a fever, he had a splintering headache, and the air whistled through his lunges as he breathed.

To be frank, he was just waiting to see what would kill him off first. The cold, the lack of nutrition, his illness… or the mere humiliation…

A child was crying outside the hut, and he slowly turned his head around, blinking tiredly. A small boy, hardly more than two, sat on the ground, waving his arms up and down, crying as if all the horrors of the world was made visible to him. Then came the sound of rushing feet, and Remus came into view, hoisting up the small child.

"Did you fall over, Nathan?" he asked in a voice so soft and warm that Sirius would've jumped, had he been in any condition to do so.

The boy nodded, still crying, but now quietly, obviously safe in Remus' presence, safe with his voice and gentle embrace. Remus didn't say anything more, but a soft noise was still coming from him. It sounded slightly like music, but there was no real melody to it, just mildly melancholic, crooning noises strung together. Just like the singing of a bird isn't really music, but beautiful all the same. The child stopped weeping, completely calmed down, and Sirius was spellbound.

Remus was smiling now, a smile that washed away the harsh, stern look he otherwise bore; a smile that softened the otherwise fierce light in his eyes to the gentle gleam of sunshine on water. It was a smile to die for, a smile that looked straight to the heart of every being and told you that your were perfect in every way, simply because you were you. And his expression was one of love and care, feelings that he must've kept locked up somewhere where no one could see them, for Sirius couldn't remember even noticing the slightest trace of them. And now these hidden gifts were given generously, almost desperately, to the child in his arms. And Sirius couldn't understand that there could be so much beauty and warmth in a being so mentally disfigured as Remus. How could this be the same person that had caller him 'It' and scorned his tears? It was as if the child had unlocked the leaden doors into a heart that Sirius hadn't even been aware was there.

But then, it struck him. Remus… Remus was just like him, just what any boy in their age would be after having lived here for all these years. And werewolf or no werewolf, _no one _could live only on hate. It was impossible. It would drive you mad, eventually. That was what had happened to… Sirius swallowed, afraid even of the thought… to Fernir, the man with nothing but absolute hunger in his eyes. But Remus had found a way out of it, a way to protect himself from all the loathing, fear, disgust and hate that they fed him with. He had taught himself to feel for the children.

More tears came, he did not know why, but he thought that maybe – just maybe – he was crying for the other boy. Crying for that he had to live such an empty life that the only ones he had to cling onto were children, children who though they undoubtedly loved him back, could do nothing to comfort him, nothing to make him feel safe. Maybe he cried because he knew what it was when your heart longed for something you couldn't name – hugs, kisses, loving words, appreciation – and the only thing you ever got was… was respect. Uncaring, stone-cold respect. People here had minds so twisted that they turned upon themselves in layer upon layer, until they finally could feel nothing for anyone but themselves. That much he had experienced; that much he had seen in their empty faces as he cried and begged them to stop… They could not give these children any affection, anything to make them feel loved. Remus could. And probably, in some way, he was taking them a little bit away from being the living weapons they were supposed to be.

He closed his eyes, did not bother to wipe the tears away this time. His skin burned from the cold, and he could feel crystals of ice forming in his lashes. Despair clung to his lunges, making it even harder than before to breathe. The emotion poisoned him, sucked the last of his powers from his very blood.

This place was Hell, and if he was suffering, the demons plaguing him were even more so.

xxxxx

Remus heard a ragged sob, lifted his head in surprise. In the bright, crisp rays of the sun, the human's considerably matted fur regained a slight spark of its usual gleam. It was pale, with hectic spots of red blossoming on its cheeks, and its lips were blue-grey-white. The smooth eyelids were closed on the eyes that more than anything marked it as a human, and long black lashes were like cracks in its skin, letting an inner darkness out into the light of day. Even from here, Remus could see ice glistening on its cheeks; once more the creature had been shedding tears.

Distractedly, he thought that he almost could understand why the dominant males wanted to keep this toy of theirs alive. Seen like this, the human was indeed very attractive, a sort of brittle beauty that brought ones thoughts to the night-time forest and the unchallenged splendour of the moon. But still, it was human, its entrancing appearance nothing but an empty shell around a core of cruelty and destructive instincts. It was just that right now, right here, that was very hard to remember. How could anything which had a soul made of iron and ice look so… frail? So alive, and so much in pain?

He hugged Nathan closer, feeling the warmth of the small body as a secure point in a world that wouldn't stay as solid and unchanging as he wanted it to. The boy had been his first mission, the first one he had ever bitten. He had taken pride in that the two-year-old had not been seriously wounded, that the bite brought the Lycantrophy to him without damaging him. There were a few cubs here who would for ever suffer from the wounds that the biting had caused.

And he had been with Nathan during that first full moon, held the boy and tried to ease the pain of the transformation the best he could. He remembered, would never forget, the eyes that still had their human colour back then; remembered blue eyes turning yellow, the tears in them drying away. He remembered how his last though, before the Wolf took over, had been: _"He is one of us now."_

And he loved Nathan like a brother now, the pack-bond was always strong between the biter and the bitten, in one way or another. Of course it was hard to imagine that the charming, lively child had once been less than animal, had been empty of all the things that even now made up the beginnings of his very own personality. Remus fought back a bitter grimace, trying without success to drive these troublesome thoughts away. In his heart, he could not believe that the child he had grown to love once had been all that which he had been taught to hate.

And this… human male, acting – he couldn't deny it – like any one of the Lycans in its furious will to protect its brother, its stubborn pride and its open defiance... Could it really be that this was all instincts acting, that there was no real emotion behind those strange eyes? Eyes that were the colour of what he – and every other Lycan – feared and shied most of all substances. Silver. Silver as opposed to his own golden eyes.

He could see its tears, and thought of how he had cried for himself, long ago. There had been a time when he had cried endlessly, even though he never let anyone know. And then he had abruptly stopped, and never again let his heart weaken so as to let forward the tears. But he still could remember the feeling of crying in his chest, and a treacherous question rose strong in his mind:

"_Does it feel the same thing?"_

Nobody could punish him for these thoughts, they hurt nobody but himself, he could simply ignore them, but the thought of that maybe there were deeper truths behind – or very far away from – the things he had been taught… well, it scared him. The emotions that awoke with this fear uprooted his soul in a slow, almost gentle manner.

_Why is it that this beautiful thing, this creature, should make me forget what I truly know to be the truth?_

Nathan closed his hand in a tight fist, grabbing a large quantity of Remus' hair, and the pain brought him back from his agonised thoughts. Gently chiding the child, he let his gaze slip away from the huddled-together form of the human. He would forget that he had ever doubted what had to be true, and the pain would sooner or later go away. Rather sooner than later, hopefully. And soon enough, the others would grow bored of the human toy, and let it die, and that would be all. No more trying to tear off the true faces of things, falsely believing them to be masks. No more thoughts that ran in circles.

The frightening vision of a world that was different from the one he had always known would sink back, revealing itself to be nothing more than a nightmare.

xxxxx

None of them could sleep during the nights, and spent their days wandering about James' house aimlessly. One week and five days. One week and five days, and not a word, not a sign from Sirius. The dreams kept Peter so frightened that he scaresly dared sleep, and soon woke him up when he finally managed to dose off. And no matter mow many blankets James wrapped himself up in, he still complained about freezing. He had started to get violent coughing-fits even though he wasn't ill, and sometimes he was struck by an unexplainable feeling of heart-wringing angst.

And still, they barely noticed this, even though they were both so tired that it was a wonder they could stand. Everything seemed small in comparison to the fact that Sirius was gone, and that – even worse – that they were completely helpless to do anything about it.

"It's those eyes" said Peter with an agonised tone of voice, clutching at his own head as if he wanted to crush the thoughts that were torturing him.

"What eyes?" said James dully, trying to do his homework in a vain attempt to spend some of the tonne-weighing amounts of time that was mounting in front of them.

"Those eyes… I see them even when I'm awake, and they are driving me mad!" His knuckles and the tips of his fingers were turning white.

"Describe." James dropped the book, his arms as limp as if someone had simply dried all the blood from them and killed all the nerve-ends.

"Yellow. A sort of deep, golden colour. I don't know. Like amber. And they… there is no expression in them. Well, maybe some strange kind of disgust, but it's like it's unimportant. And they scare me, even though I don't know why."

James had gone rigid, his face even paler than before, now that worry mingled with stark, uncompromising fear in his gaze.

"What?" Peter wondered, sitting up a bit straighter and dropping his hands in his lap.

"It was just… when you said that… I don't know. Felt so weird."

Peter closed his eyes, and started talking in a monotonous voice, almost as if he was reciting something from a textbook. Only it was his own feelings that he read. "You feel like the whole world has dropped away and there is no-one left to care for you. You feel like a child does when both its father and mother is angry at it; abandoned by everything that you ever have depended on. And your tears will not bring compassion, only scoldings. You feel like you are trying to melt an iceberg with the heat from your own hands. You feel despair. Am I right?"

James nodded, and wondered if the blood-supply for his heart had been cut off, for every beat felt so painfully slow and seemed to require a horrible amount of effort. But then dull apathy came rushing back, drenching his soul in chloroform-scented nothingness. He met Peter's gaze, and met the same complete helplessness there. Fear feeds on hopes, needs them to survive. And there was almost nothing left of their hopes now. They knew, somehow, that Sirius was in a greater danger than they ever could imagine. They had no concrete proof of this, but their souls and bodies still knew. That was what was tearing them down.

Somewhere in his subconsciousness, Peter, who had never been seen much in his life, by instinct connected having someone watching over you with safety, and therefore he would night after night witness the terror that Sirius was exposed to. But always from a distance. He couldn't find the way, got lost when there was just a short distance left.

James, who was the kind of person that often showed sympathy, not by protecting someone from harm, but by sharing the pain with them, was taking on Sirius' sufferings as a way to help. But he couldn't diminish what Sirius felt, could only force himself to a sort of manifestation of compassion and false closeness by feeling it himself. He too got lost on his way there, couldn't reach out far enough.

Entangled in emotions and sensations that they could barely handle, they slowly watched the world around them float away, dragged down into a vast black numbness. Mrs. Black was slowly growing hysteric, their parents were trying non-stop to find ways to bring back both Sirius and their own sons into the sunlit world they knew, Ministry officials were running in and out of their house…

And nothing, it seemed, mattered at all. When James touched Peters shoulder as a way to comfort, they could barely feel anything at all. If they looked close enough, they could see each other fade away, and the only thing they had to cling onto was each other.

xxxxx

_Fleeting thoughts that you cannot really grasp – that slip over your mind like water on an oily surface – and logic that is unfocused and dimmed are usually signs of that you are dreaming. Another sign is usually that you do not realise this until you wake up._

_The full moon is rising, though Remus. Odd. I am in my weaker form. Why?_

_Everything was somewhat blurred and had a blue tint to it. Otherwise, no other colour could really be seen. And if he had looked closer – something he of course did not do – he would've noticed that the landscape around him lacked details, that it really was just a blurry mass to fill out for what the mind knew had to be there._

_He knew he was in camp, and that was hardly surprising, since Remus had only left the home of the Pack on one occasion so far, if you did not count some very short hunting-trips. He usually dreamt about being at home. But this dream was different from the rest._

_The Pack wasn't there. This was odd. A wolf of any kind has a very strong bond to the rest of its pack, and werewolves are no different. Dreaming about the camp being empty, a dream where he could not find even one member of his Pack anywhere, was a completely new phenomenon._

_But _something_ was there._

_Something… Or the knowledge of something that at the moment wasn't there, a premonition of presence. And though he somehow knew that he shouldn't be frightened, he could still feel his skin crawl and his insides twist from an eerie, surreal sort of fear. Whatever this something was, it was somehow wrong._

_There wasn't any noise. Not a whisper of wind, although he could see it caressing the trees; no water running, although he was standing just a few feet away from a creek; not the cry of a bird, although black wings cut the smooth dark-blue sky at regular intervals. He could feel the beating of his heart, but no matter how hard he concentrated he couldn't hear it. He couldn't even hear his own breathing. It was as if he had suddenly turned stone deaf._

_But what was worse than that was the lack of smells. He couldn't smell the snow, or the earth, or the creatures moving about in the forest. He couldn't smell his own flesh. For a creature such as the werewolf, a creature relying on its sense of smelling even more than its vision, it was like being cut off from the whole world._

_Slowly, he was starting to panic._

_But there was one thing he could hold on to, one single scent drifting in the wind he could feel but not hear. It was strange and familiar at the same time, and brought feelings of confusion, anger and bewilderment to his heart. But he still could not remember where he had felt it before. He had a feeling that he would, though, when the time was right. He had a feeling he was waiting for something._

_Even though he still couldn't hear a sound, he still knew that something behind him had just made a twig snap. The knowledge came to his mind as if it had always been there, and on instinct he spun around._

_And that was of course when something touched the skin of his neck, like a faint breath of air ghosting against it in a way that sent shivers down his spine. Slowly, he turned his head around, and found himself looking into a pair of big eyes, coloured perfectly to resemble shadowed silver._

_Before him stood the human, dressed like one of the Pack. It was standing with its back straight, not showing any sign of weakness, and as the light of the moon hit its skin it seemed somehow to glow. Remus was almost overwhelmed by the scent of it, probably because it was the only one he could feel clearly. But his perception of his own body was slowly returning now, and faintly he could hear the blood thumping through his veins, feel the familiar scent of himself._

_The human had it's hand stretched out before it, hadn't lowered it after having reached out to touch Remus. The black hair, impossibly straight and falling in fluid waves around its face, looked like strands of night made solid._

_With only his own and the body of the human perceptible to his senses, it was as if nothing else truly existed, like they were surrounded by illusions, shadows and light. Only the feeling of wind against his skin and stone underfoot kept Remus from the conviction that they infact where hovering in nothingness, cast away from the world._

_The human moved its hand and placed it on his shoulder, spinning him around and pulling himself closer, so that they now where standing nosetip to nosetip. Remus felt warmth radiate from it, caressing his skin like a mere shadow of sensation. And he suddenly wanted to reach out to the other being, suddenly wanted this teasing warmth to become real and solid. And what was even worse was the sudden, overwhelming urge to mate._

_As opposed to humans, the werewolves of the Pack didn't regard sex as some kind of taboo. Among them it wasn't associated with shame or lowered voices or some kind of vague physical guilt. Mating was mating. Two members of the pack did it because there was a mutual attraction, because they felt an understanding and care for one another, and – of course – because they wanted cubs._

_But to feel this for a human… It was _wrong_. Everything in Remus told him that it was wrong. He knew exactly what the elder males had been doing with this human, but this urge was different. It wasn't the urge to satisfy himself, it was a craving for perfect closeness, a want to melt together with this being and becoming one with it. And that was not possible, not with a human and not with a male. It was something that wasn't supposed to be. Yet he had been raised for as long as he could remember to heed his instincts, and under the onslaught of them he felt every resistance crumbling._

_With a small, unarticulated sound, he pulled the human's body close to his. As the creature immediately replied to this, its arms going around his waist and its lips melting over his, Remus wasn't capable of even thinking that this shouldn't happen. He was, in fact, barely capable to think at all, except for the half thoughts and half emotions that registered the feeling of skin against burning skin, a scent of pheromone and sweat and blood that was the whole world._

_And then it was gone, the human pulled away, and Remus swayed and fell to his knees, whimpering softly in protest. The human followed him, going down on its knees before him, and Remus reached out for it. He was rejected, strong hands gripping his shoulders and holding him fixed, and it felt like his bones were crumbling with disappointment._

"_Please…" The plea was forced over his lips even though his pride screamed in protest._

"_No. You have to say my name first."_

_He looked up at the human, disbelieving. The creature stared back, cold and cruelly beautiful to behold. "Say my name" it repeated._

"…_don't remember…" Remus closed his eyes.  
"Yes you do" the voice that was like fire made fluid said. "Say it."_

"…_cannot…" It came out as an almost-sob, and he could feel his body shaking violently._

"_Say it!" the hands squeezed his shoulders even tighter, the grip gradually becoming more and more painful. "_Say it!"

_And there just wasn't enough strength in him to hold on, to weather the storm of sensation and emotion that was tearing at his very flesh now. "Sirius…" he whispered between swollen lips. "Sirius…!" And his already strained body did not resist at all when he was wrestled to the ground by the strong arms of the human; no, he craved more and pulled the other one closer and closer, until he felt like his blood was burning-_

And that was when he woke up, panting wildly, still with the name of the human as a bitter reminder lingering on his lips.


	4. Slip and fall

**Lotte: **Bwahaha! Lookie lokkie! We're back! And all credit to me.

**Alex: **Shut. It.

**Lotte:** Well, it is. If I hadn't kicked you into working order, this never would've happened.

**Alex:** Oh, hark who's talking. I have at least updated one of my own stories during the recent decade.

**Lotte:** (pouting) You meanie. Anyway, here it is. In all its glory, as it were. And I AM working on a new chapter of Tell Laura, and I'll try to start on a new one on Harry Snape as well, so don't beat me to death with my own computer just yet. And _enjoy!_

**

* * *

Chapter Four**

**Slip and fall**

"_We are the meat you work with,  
this is your sense of failure,  
if you work me way too long  
the failure stains your hands.  
We are the meat you've eaten;  
cut us with your sharpest knife.  
You've been away so long  
the maggots eat away."_

Jack off Jill, Woking with meat

* * *

Remus felt like he was on fire, his skin felt too tight for his body, and that _urge…_ It was the urge to mate, the urge to claim, the urge of the wolf and the human, perfectly in tune with each other like they had never been before. 

_Mine._

He spun around so that he stood on his hands and knees, and then sprung to his feet from there. He needed to feel the cold air of the forest, he needed to feel solid rock and crisp snow underneath his feet, or he would soon crumble from inside, turn into ashes that slowly drifted away. But even though the cravings tearing at his body were painful, he had never felt more alive. His senses seemed sharper than ever, and the teasing tingling that filled his body like electricity gave every second a new dimension of reality such as he had never felt before. Subconsciously, he ran his nimble hands over his body, feeling the feverishly hot skin, and he exhaled softly in pain, closed his eyes, as the burning sensation became even sharper, even more urgent.

_Out._

In the next moment, he was running, moving fast and feeling that his body needed this, needed the exertion. He ran through the camp, past the widely scattered shelters, and as he reached the end he first considered if he should just keep on running. But his natural instinct to follow authorities took over. He had no permission to leave. His pack leader would be very displeased.

So he turned, and even though he knew he shouldn't, his feet were carrying him towards the shelter where they kept the human boy, with or without his consent. He ducked inside feeling guilty, and looked around him, locating the other the human on the ground in a corner. It breathed slowly; was asleep.

He could feel the scent of the dominant males in the air, realised that they had been there again, amusing themselves. He felt the scent of mating, too, and he didn't like it. It made him feel angry, like had someone moved without permission into the territory that belonged to the Pack. He felt like someone was threatening something that was his, and this feeling terrified him.

_MINE._

_No. Mustn't._

_Mate._

_Cannot._

_We claim it._

_Will not!_

He also felt another smell, a sharp and putrid stench, and realised what it was when he almost stepped in a pool of sick on the ground. Wrinkling his nose, he backed away. Humans were disgusting. But for the first time, a small trickle of sympathy found its way into his heart, and he watched the curled-up creature with eyes that burned, as indecision tore him to pieces from inside. For even though it disgusted him, even though his whole being recoiled from the mere concept, he knew what was happening to him. Mating is a thing that happens whether you like it or not; its forces are inside you, in your longing and in your needs, and therefore is not to be fought against. He could guess what had happened. His stronger form, the wolf, had seen the defiance and… and yes, the strength, that this creature had shown, and that had won its respect. It had found him worthy. That was how it worked. And it always started with the dreams, and the sexual urgings. Then, Remus knew, it would turn into an obsession, a craving that was so deep and fundamental that nothing could explain it, for it needed not be explained. It was _mating._

But it was so WRONG! It wasn't even supposed to be possible. He was wolf, and that thing was human. It was prey, and lower than prey, for the hunter needs always feel respect for what it hunts. And you could feel no such thing for a human. You shouldn't feel at all, only destroy. And of course, mating was not meant for two males. Mating was for breeding, for bringing forth cubs. Something like what he felt was not only wrong, it was unnatural, it had to be.

But he felt it, felt it in his very bones and in his spine and in the core of his very existence, and this made him faulty, this made him a flaw, and disgust now rose in Remus that was far worse than what he felt for the thing that was supposed to be his mate.

It was disgust over himself.

_How could this have happened?_ he raged inside his head. _Am I really so dysfunctional, so perverted? How? It is not possible, I will not believe it, I refuse to accept it!_

But he knew that fighting it would only be worse. If he fought what the wolf told him, he was no better than a human. He could not stop being what he _was_, and therefore he could not deny his mate.

Swallowing deeply, he turned his gaze away from where it had been fixed on the human. He had to go to his pack leader for counsel. It was the right thing to do.

And the thing he feared the most.

* * *

It occurred to him that when he wandered through the forest that stretched along the borders of his family's grounds, he for once felt absolutely at peace with himself. It was as close to complete happiness that he would come. Sometimes, with his friend, he could almost feel the same peacefulness as he felt here, but then those bleeding Marauders would turn up, or the ghostly thought of home would rise to haunt him, and that would bring back every self-destructive feeling of simply _not being good enough_. And that was, inescapably, it. 

But here, he would let go of himself and just be something else for a change. He could breathe here. And home turned into a shadow that had no power what so ever. Maybe because here was something that his father could not control, that he could never destroy for Severus, no matter how hard he tried. Here was nature as it had been for thousands of years, and thus it would remain after the young man had taken his last step there; thus it would remain even after he was ultimately crushed, as he was sure he would be.

Under the now bare trees, blackened by moisture and looking strangely deformed in the muted evening light, wandered a black-robed figure with its cloak wrapped tight around its thin, slightly hunched frame. It left a dark trail in the thin, wet layer of snow. The black hair fell in lank, hopeless curtains and hid from the world a face which was marked with lines of bitterness not usually associated with someone so young of age. Under eyes that were coloured like onyx, and just as cold and unyieldingly hard, the skin was smudged with dark circles, skin that otherwise was sallow, almost translucent, and too tautly pulled over the angular face, making it look like a death mask.

And in his loneliness, what was almost a smile touched the thin lips of Severus Snape. It was not the sneer that otherwise would almost constantly twist them, but rather a smile of eternal relief. It looked like the smile that someone would smile on their deathbed, after having being tortured for many weeks by illness.

This day he had wandered even further, knowing very well that he was trying to prolong his time of freedom before he had to turn home, but refusing to admit it to himself. Not fully sure on where he was anymore, he set his course on a small hilltop, reasoning that he would be able to find his bearings better if he had a full view of the forest around him. But what he saw from there shocked him so deeply that he completely forgot about his own needs.

A myriad of primitive shelters were spread over an area that was much bigger than Hogsmeade, and people, dressed in almost nothing at all, moved among them. Why humans should live in such a way, in a place so remote, boggled his mind at first, but then all those hours studying the more obscure and shadowed parts of the Wizarding World paid off, and his mind threw up the information he needed. These were no humans. They had to be a group of rebel werewolves, there was no other answer.

He immediately dropped to his knees, taking whatever pathetic shelter a small bush would offer him. Realising that he was in real danger was not particularly hard. If they found him, he would never get away from there. Thanking his lucky star for that the wind was blowing in his face, and thus not carrying his scent down to them, he pulled his wand out of his pocket, feeling much reassured by the feeling of smooth wood against his hand. He muttered a Disillusionment Charm, and as he felt the cold sensation of the magic doing its work, trickling down his back, he breathed a sigh of relief. Now at least they would not be able to see him. And since he was in the middle of nowhere, it was highly unlikely that he would get into any trouble for breaking the decree of Underage Sorcery.

Now, his first impulse was to make his way away from there, but that was overruled by the fact that he was a Slytherin, and therefore calculative. He would have to report them, since it was not safe living neighbour with a pack of lawless werewolf, however distant neighbours that may be. And then it would probably be good to be able to give some details about them, so that people will actually believe me, and not take this for some lame-brained prank.

"_Occulavi_" he whispered, and the view before him was immediately magnified, as if someone was holding a lens before his face. Firstly, his eyes fell upon a boy in his own age, he guessed that he was about as tall as him, with long tawny hair falling down his back. He was bowing in front of a tall, muscular man with a mane of grey hair and a short, unkempt grey beard. He could see the sulphurous glow of the man's eyes, the long, yellowed nails that were like claws, and he shuddered violently. From the respect the younger werewolf was showing him, the large man was probably a leader of sorts.

Then he let his gaze stray, stopping only briefly to take mental notes of the behaviour of the werewolf pack, until something caught his eye. It was a hint of movement inside one of the shelters, and he did not know why it distracted him so, but he turned his gaze there, waiting. Someone was staggering out of there. The person's head was bowed, so that all he saw was black hair, but it was evident that this was not one of the werewolves. Probably a human prisoner, male, from the look of it. He was wearing thorn and tattered clothes, and no coat or anything of the sorts to protect him from the cold, which the werewolves seemed so immune to. Thus, he was shaking, and he was very thin, from what Severus could see of his arms and legs. He glimpsed bruises on what skin was visible through the rips in his shirt, and the person swayed back and forth, probably from lack of nutrition.

Severus' mouth had gone very dry. The gravity of the situation finally sunk in. He was in deadly danger such as he had never been in before. If the wind would turn now, he would with all certainty be caught, and then it would not be long until he was a walking corpse, just like the man down there. He made to run away, but right then, one of the werewolves passed the prisoner, and gave him an almost playful kick over the knee. Even if he could not hear it, Severus could see him laughing, and he felt sick with pity for the human wreck, as he staggered, lost his footing, and fell to his knees.

But then… then he turned his face toward his torturer, spat in defiance, and Severus felt the whole world dropping a thousand feet when he recognised the face of the prisoner, a face that he had learnt to know and hate.

And then he ran. He ran, and ran, and then he had to stop, doubling over. He quickly lost his lunch, his stomach turning inside out, again and again until only gall filled his mouth. Coughing and spitting, he then once more fled, fled wildly through a world of black trees and white snow and an accursed echo that would not leave him alone:

_Sirius Black. Sirius Black._

* * *

It was evening when Remus had finally gathered enough courage to speak to his pack leader. Cowardice was not something he was easily given to, but the fear of disapproval from Fenrir was rooted so deeply that it was almost impossible to win over, and he had spent many hours battling himself before he finally managed to find the resolve he so desperately needed. 

After having greeted him appropriately, Remus then kneeled before his pack leader, his gaze inevitably glued on his superior's feet.

"Pack leader Greyback" he said, using Fenrir's wolf name as an ultimate sign of respect "I humbly request your counsel."

He could smell that the alpha male was surprised. "Indeed?"

Remus swallowed, and continued. "The nature of my inquiry is… sensitive. I can only speak freely if I know that words will reach your ears only."

Greyback was silent for a long time, and Remus felt his heart racing as he vainly battled his fear. Finally, however, he once more heard the rasping voice of the pack leader. "Very well. Follow me, Moony."

He knew that he had offended his superior, for wishing to speak alone to the leader was considered an insult, as it usually meant that one was about to challenge the leader for the power over the Pack. He was glad that Fenrir hadn't flatly refused, for if his shame had become knowledge of the rest of the pack, he knew that the humiliation would surely have killed him.

He followed Fenrir to a small glade, outside camp, and waited humbly for his superior to speak. When he did, his words came out as a low growl.

"If you are to challenge me, Remus, I call you a fool" he said, and it stung to hear him use his human name, a sure sign that he was displeased. "I am your elder, and thus you should show me more respect than you now do. And I am far stronger than you. By the moon, you are hardly more than a cub! Have you lost your mind?"¨

Remus threw himself to the ground once more, kneeling with his head lowered. "Please, pack leader, forgive me. I mean no disrespect, nor was my meaning ever to challenge you. You are my elder, my Biter, and I would rather die than question your right to rule." He felt tears rising to his eyes, and this made his shame so deep that he dipped his head even lower, touching the ground with his forehead, as he awaited the verdict from his pack leader. For a long time, no reply came, but Remus could no longer smell any hostility. Trembling, he looked up, met the gaze of his superior, and hoped desperately that his innocence was visible in his eyes.

Fenrir nodded.

"You speak no lie" he decided. "So speak. What troubles your mind, Moony?"

Remus breather a sigh of relief, even though the hard part was hardly over. "I… I have found my mate, pack leader" he said hesitantly.

An amused smile pulled Fenrir's lips taut. "Is it only that? What do I care, Moony? I suggest you take this up with your mate, rather than me."

Remus blushed. "Forgive me, leader, but I feel such a shame over my mate, for it is an unnatural such. I cannot mate, yet that is what I have to do, unless I want no longer to be Wolf."

An expression of worry and ill forebodings crossed the face of the pack leader. "What do you mean? Speak, pup!"

Shame made Remus' eyes fill with tears once more. "It is the human, pack leader. A human male… Please, tell me what to do…"

"What!" the cry came out more as an angry bark, and Fenrir pounced. Remus was lifted from his feet and held by his throat against the trunk of a tree. He could not breath, he was in pain, and he knew for certain that he would die now, die for this horrible flaw. His pack leader would slay him and drink his blood, and thus would he be cleansed. He closed his eyes to embrace death, and felt tears running down his cheeks as he did so.

But a moment later, he was on his hands and knees on the ground, gasping wildly for air with lunges that burned white-hot. Red blots obscured most of his vision, and he heard a strange ringing in is ears.

"How could this happen?" Fenrir growled at him, enraged like Remus had never heard him before. "How could such an illness, such weakness of mind, find its way into my Pack? How could one of mine find one of those creatures _worthy!_"

Remus whined helplessly, clawing at the dirt in front of him, humiliated as he had never been before. "F-forgive me… I know not… I know not why. Believe me, pack leader, when I say that I hate that creature, hate it more than anyone else can… I do not understand… I… I beg you to tell me what to do…"

"If I tell you, will you protest?" The voice of his superior was cold, and Remus knew that if he said 'yes', he would be dead before his heart had time to beat even once.

"No, pack leader. And I swear that I will do whatever you wish to show that I am still worthy…"

"You will never be worthy" said Fenrir, and Remus whined again. "Not until this creature is no longer your mate. Do you understand?"

"No, pack leader."

"By sunrise tomorrow, the human dies" Fenrir said, watching the young man for reactions. "And tonight, you will watch our games with him. Seeing him belonging to someone else will perhaps severe the ties a bit before the end."

Remus gasped. "But pack leader… I… if the human dies… I will live without a mate… for ever…"

"And is that not better than having a human for a mate?" Fenrir growled, anger flashing in his eyes. Remus watched him for a moment, and then rolled over on his back, baring himself in a display of submission and acceptance. The pack leader nodded, satisfied.

"You will come to where we keep the creature at sundown. Do you comply?"

"I do, pack leader."

"I believe that your word holds true, as you are one of mine. You may leave."

And Remus crawled on his hands and knees from the presence of his leader, shaking painfully and crying as he could not remember having ever cried before.

* * *

Later, Severus could not call to mind how he managed to find his way back home, and he only had faint memories of how he staggered through the falling darkness, up the path toward the large stone building where he lived with his father and mother. He encountered no one as he rushed towards the drawing room, and that was just as well, for he had no time, no time at all. He got a fire going with a urgently hissed charm, stole a fistful of floo-powder from where he knew that his father hid it, and transported himself to what he thought must be the most adjacent floo-hookup. For he dared not go to the Ministry with this, not alone, and then he had nowhere else to go but the last place on earth he wanted to go to. And yet, he would do it. 

For even though he wanted so badly to triumph over what had happened to Black, he could not. It was as someone had dropped a weight in the pit of his stomach, and it tugged him down, made him feel ill, and tapped him of the triumph before he could even get to feel it. Hurt Black as Severus Snape might have wanted, and would gladly do; being guilty of his death was a completely different matter. That was not something he could do. He was only fifteen, and the thought of ever killing anyone had never crossed his mind, not seriously. Sure, he had sometimes sworn to himself that one day… But when that day came, as it had now, he realised that he did not have it in him, nor did he wish to.

So with a hand that trembled, he pushed on the doorbell.

* * *

Peter looked up, tiredly, as a sharp ringing tore through the nightmarish visions that danced before his eyes. "James. Doorbell." he mumbled, nudging his friend. James made to stand up, but his knees buckled, and he fell back on his bed, leaning his head in his hands. 

"I don't know what's wrong with me…" he mumbled. "I feel like I haven't eaten in several days, and still, I'm not hungry. It wasn't so long ago we had dinner, right?" He sighed, leaning backwards tiredly. "Please, take the door, Peter. I bet my parents are busy."

Peter nodded and stood up, pushing the door open and starting to walk down the stairs. He could hear Mrs Black in the living-room, crying, and two Aurors stood in deep discussion in the Hall. Mrs. Potter stood in the kitchen, silently handing Mr. Black glass after glass, which he broke against the floor, his face a stiff mask of indifference, the uproar in his soul only betrayed by that his eyes glistened with tears he did not cry.

_This is a madhouse_, he thought, turning his gaze away. He concentrated on getting down to the door, and he steadied himself against a chest of drawers as he unlocked and pushed the handle down. That was lucky for him, for when he saw who was standing there, his knees immediately gave way, and he was very close to falling. By gathering all his forces and self-control, he managed to remain standing, however, and then stood staring at the other young man, not believing his eyes.

_I'm having hallucinations, Mr. Black is breaking glass in the kitchen, Mrs. Black is crying in the drawing-room, James is starving two hours after dinner, and Severus Snape stands on the doorstep. That's it. I've gone insane._

"Pettigrew" said the other boy, slightly impatiently, and Peter was at least slightly assured by the fact that what he had before him was not yet another hallucination. Only the real Snape could glare like that.

"Snape…" he whispered weakly. "How… I mean, what are you doing here?"

"Do you know where Black is?" he asked abruptly, and Peter forgot about anything else. He threw himself at Severus, forgetting that he was much weaker and did not really pose any threat, only knowing that he had to force the other boy to tell him whatever it was he knew.

"What do you know about Sirius?" he half-shouted, half-whimpered, clutching at the front of those ever-present black robes. "You've got to tell me…"

Severus stared down at the short boy, completely brought out of balance by the desperation in his voice and his wildly staring eyes. But as his thought caught up with him, he realised that by the looks of Black, he must've been with the werewolves for some days at least. Of course his friends knew by now. And looking into the wide-open blue eyes that now stared up at him, pleading for something, anything, that would take away his worries and make everything alright; he suddenly wished that he had friends that cared for him in such a way. Friends that would cry for him as Peter now cried, large tears spilling down his once rosy cheeks unchecked.

He cleared his throat, pushed away all emotion and drew a huge, trembling breath, before he said:

"I know where he is."

* * *

**Lottie:** Tada! Now, isn't this _funny_? 

**Alex:** (notice the sarcasm) Very. Next chapter: A race against the clock and a very important decision for Remus. Oh, for the melodrama... (rolls eyes)


	5. Wolf hunt

**Lotte:** Okay. I've had this amazing case of writer's block, so basically, I haven't written **ANYTHING AT ALL** in several months. I'm terribly sorry for this, but let's hope I'm getting better now, eh?

**Alex:** I haven't been writing much either, really. I've got a life to consider, and I feel it is a little more important than writing fanfiction, actually.

**Lotte:** Isn't she _odd_? How could anything be more important that that? Anyway, here it is. Chapter five. Nice, huh? And oh, I should warn sensitive readers. It's quite violent and nasty. We tried to tone it down a bit, but still. Just so you know.

**Alex:** Enjoy.

xxx

**Chapter Five**

**Wolf hunt**

"_Oh Vivica, I wish you well;_

_I'll sit right here, I'll never tell._

_No tender scar, no twist of fate_

_will save you now._

_He'll never change, he's just not there,_

_he'll never say you're beautiful._

_Oh Vivica, I wish you well, I really do…"_

- Jack off Jill, Vivica

xxx

Severus Snape refused to speak to the Aurors. He found a bitter, twisted kind of amusement in the fact that suddenly, the only ones he really trusted were James and Peter, his previous tormentors from school.

Trembling, he sat beside Peter in the Potter family sofa, his face a mask of badly hidden fear. Mrs. Potter had fended off the Aurors wanting to question him, holding back a hysteric Mrs. Black with the strength of her own arms, and had left it to her son and his friend to interview Severus about what he had seen. With the annoying habit of grownups, she assumed that they were all friends, being boys in the same age and going to school together. But Severus didn't feel tongue-tied with inexplicable dread when Peter spoke to him, nor did he feel trapped and ready to throw up from sheer panic as soon as James would ask him a question, so it worked surprisingly well.

"Where did you see him, Sn- Severus?" James, who was perched on the armrest, began. He sounded a bit uncertain; he did not know if the other boy would snarl at him for using his first name. But Severus didn't even seem to notice. His eyes were distant and slightly unfocused, his hands trembling as they picked with the folds of his robe.

"In the forest. I don't know exactly where. Some distance away from my house. Eastward, I think." His voice was cracked and he slurred a bit as he spoke.

"But where _was_ he?" James demanded, a bit impatiently. "Have you spoken to him?"

Severus shook his head. "No. He was… a prisoner."

"Prisoner?" James looked frightened, but far from surprised. This was, after all, exactly what they had feared and expected.

"Yes. There were renegade werewolves there. A whole camp full of them."

"How do you know about renegades, boy?" one of the Aurors snapped. Severus flinched, as if someone had tried to hit him, and stared in the opposite direction, his lips trembling as he clamped them shut.

"How did you know they were werewolves?" Peter asked carefully. He was a bit shocked to find that he felt sorry for Snape, but when he thought about it, he didn't find it that strange, after all. Anyone capable of reading the signals that Severus was sending out, signals reminiscent of those of a terrified animal, would feel pity for him.

"I've read books" the black-robed boy answered after a long pause. "I studied extra on Defence Against the Dark Arts."

_And not only on _Defence Against_ the Dark Arts,_ thought Peter wryly. He saw that James smiled bleakly for the shortest of moments, and figured he must be thinking the same thing.

"So the werewolves were keeping him prisoner. Did you see his brother?"

Severus looked confused. "I don't know. I thought Black's brother was only eight or nine or so…"

"Seven" said Mr. Black harshly. James looked at him warningly as Severus recoiled, and he turned his face away.

"You didn't see Regulus…" Peter prompted, touching the shoulder of the other boy in the sofa, very softly.

"I… I barely know what he looks like." Severus was trembling more violently now. "I saw a group of children there, but I didn't take much notice of them…" He huddled helplessly, as if trying to hide from view. "But… but that could be why Black was there. If they took his brother… He is stupid enough to have gone after on his own." A bit of the old Severus snuck into his voice for a short moment, but then he suddenly shrunk away from Peter and James, as if he was sure they were going to hit him. Peter felt sick, sick with a really bad – and well-earned – conscience. _That's how we normally act, isn't it?_ And this time as well, James' expression mirrored exactly what he felt.

"Yeah, you're right" the bespectacled boy said, his voice soft and almost friendly. "That's just the thing that Siri would do, that is. Rushing off without thinking. Trying to save someone he cares for and getting into the same trouble himself instead."

"My son is… very careless by nature" Mr. Black muttered roughly. The Aurors were watching them, as they each nodded in affirmation.

"Very well" said a stately-looking young witch. "Let us assume that Mr. Regulus Black was kidnapped, as is the custom of the beasts. He will probably have been bitten by now" – when she said this, Mrs. Potter had to bring Mrs. Black out of the room, as she was crying so loudly that they could not hear properly – "but I shouldn't think that the same thing has happened to his brother. Did he see any bite marks on him?" she asked, turning directly to James and Peter, who passed it on to Severus.

The young man shook his head. "No. No. And they haven't bitten him. They treated him like an animal of some sorts. Not like he was one of them."

The witch nodded. "Then he has not been bitten, at least. But why have they kept him alive for so long?"

And images and sounds flashed through Peter's mind, memories of the visions that had tortured him. The sound of Sirius screaming with pain, whimpering, crying, pleading, begging, retching… A cold sweat broke out over his body, the room felt like the air had been sucked out, and he fought back an urge to throw up.

"…raping him…" He forced the words over lips that seemed numb. The Auror looked at him.

"Pardon?" she said.

"I… just an idea" Peter said, trying to speak without his voice cracking, something he completely failed at. "Sirius is… well, handsome. Maybe they think he is… amusing." He closed his eyes. "You know, torturing him, mocking him, doing… other stuff. Sexual stuff. For… fun…" He could see Sirius' face before his eyes, the face that very rarely was seen without a huge grin, a to-die-for face with eyes that almost constantly glittered with mischief. He wanted badly to cry, but the tears would not come.

James thought about the aches all over his body he had been getting, especially the dull, throbbing ache around his rectum, and he wanted to murder someone.

"It is… possible" another one of the Aurors conceded. "Many werewolves have been known to show sadistic impulses toward humans."

"How did Sirius Black look when Mr. Snape saw him?" the witch demanded, looking at the youths in the sofa. Peter didn't seem capable of speech at the time, but James repeated the question to Severus with a voice that quivered with rage and pain.

"Starved. Cold, he has no proper clothes. Broken. Whatever they have done to him… it must be pretty damn awful to have crushed him like that." Severus swallowed; he hated having to remember this. He wanted never ever to think about it again. "I saw one of them kick him. He, the werewolf, was laughing. Seemed to find it amusing." He looked up, for the first time looking directly at James and Peter. "Black replied by spitting at him" he said softly, with reluctant respect in his voice. Peter and James, tears in their eyes, bowed their heads. That was the Sirius they knew. Stupidly brave to the bitter end.

The stately witch's voice shattered the moment. "Alright, we cannot be dawdling here. We're going after them immediately. Er… Mr. Snape will have to show us where he lives, and the direction he was walking in. The rest will be taken care of by Aurors. We'll organize a searching party immediately."

Severus stood up, and so did James and Peter. The witch looked sternly at them.

"We will not bring children…" she began, at the same time as Mr. Potter said: "Under no conditions are you going to…"

"Dad!" James interrupted. "We were not thinking about going with them, okay. We'll just follow to Severus' house. If that's okay" he added to Severus, realising that it was quite rude to invite himself and Peter. The other young man simply nodded, his face shadowed by his hair, so that they could not read his expression.

The witch looked between the three boys, and nodded curtly. "Very well. Let's go."

xxx

As the sun dipped to hide behind the horizon, painting the sky a vibrant red, Remus stood outside the shelter where the human was kept. He kept his head bowed, so he would not have to see the inquisitive looks that the rest of the pack were sending him. It was enough that Fenrir had told the dominant males about his shame; he would not let on anything to the rest of them. He would keep up this strong, proud façade, for tonight he desperately needed strength, or even the mere semblance of it.

Inside, he could feel his wolf side raging, and a painful rent had opened in his soul, separating the wolf from the weaker form. Fighting against something that was a part of him, entwined so tightly with what he was that there was no telling where one ended and the other began… it was the ultimate feeling of vulnerability, as if his mind was an open, bleeding wound and someone was plunging their fist into it.

A hand landed on the small of his back, pushing him forward. He knew that the contact was meant to make him feel more at ease, for it was the admonishment of a misbehaving cub rather than the punishment of a grown wolf. And that was why he pulled away from the touch, snarling. He could not stop this from happening, but at least he could save what pride he had left.

Bloodbane, Greyback's mate, recoiled slightly from this reaction, but then bared her teeth and gave him a swipe over the cheek, leaving four raised red veldts as a reminder of than even her short human claws were sharp. The disgust burning in her eyes told Remus that she had been told, and she confirmed this by giving him a brutal shove, sending him through the entrance of the shelter. "_Abomination_" he heard her hiss, before the light of the outside was suddenly cut off. Fenrir had dropped a deer-skin in front of the opening, making sure that no one would see what happened inside.

Remus sobbed with relief. At the same time, another sob erupted from the other side of the room, a sharp heartrending sound that communicated blind terror. Remus lifted his head and his gaze met that of the human. In the gloom, with the creature's face shining so white, the eyes had lost their silver shine to instead open into vast, yawning depths of darkness, sucking at the gaze and forcing it to lose itself in the void. And the otherwise moonlight-perfect features of the creature were contorted into an almost childlike mask of fear, somehow grotesque in its semblance of shattered innocence.

And Remus, unable to help it, felt his eyes sting with tears of sympathy. He felt his muscles spasm as he tried to prevent himself from flinging his body between his mate and the other males. He felt his heart shrink with self-loathing as he quivered and turned his head away, so sickened by what he had seen that he could stand it no more.

He received a quite hard shove from Blackrage, and Icepaw growled at him. "You will watch" Greyback told him in a low, terrible tone of voice.

"Just kill it" Remus pleaded. "Just kill the miserable thing. I… hate… it…" There was a faint whimper from the human, fear, exhaustion and despair mingling in the small sound. Remus choked down a pained howl.

"Then you won't mind our games with it, surely" came the mocking reply. "You should enjoy seeing it."

"The… wolf… minds…" Remus panted. He had now sunken to his knees, his fingers clawing spasmodically at the ground to keep him from attacking his own pack-mates.

"It is your own weakness that has brought this upon your stronger form. You are responsible for this."

"I know" Remus whimpered, cringing and shivering. "Oh, please, yes I know so just kill the horrible thing and then punish _me_…"

"Seeing your mate being played with _is _your punishment, Moony." Fenrir looked almost regretful. "The pain is necessary. It might even make the separation easier."

By these words, Blackrage lifted the human bodily from the floor and threw him. Redclaw caught him with a bark of laughter and clamped his strong arms around him. The human was screaming now, helpless pleas for help, for mercy, barely intelligible as he sobbed and shook uncontrollably with fear. Blackrage didn't even seem to notice how the human fought for his freedom, as he tore off the sad scraps of clothing that was all that protected the human's frail body from the cold.

Terrible sounds were erupting from the human's throat; sharp, shuddering, shrill and breathless. Remus felt his body being slowly wrenched out of his own control as he watched his mate's tear-streaked face contort into a mask of pain and humiliation, as Blackrage did something he couldn't quite see, but felt, like an echo of his mate's feelings.

And he leapt.

xxx

James stumbled, coughing and blinking, out of the fireplace and into what appeared to be a sitting room. He turned around just in time to catch Peter as he was propelled out after him. Severus arrived just seconds later, stepping out with silent, stern grace.

"A terrible way to travel" he remarked as he brushed ash off his clothes, and he sounded almost normal by now. But James had been made more sensitive by stress and fear, and was enough in tune with the other boy's emotions to notice the small cracks in the façade, where panic almost thick enough to touch was leaking out.

"I'd give my right hand for self-control like that" Peter mumbled in his ear, smiling bleakly. James tried to smile encouragingly in return, but only managed a tired grimace.

"Let's hope you won't lose any hands in a while, Pete. You might need them yet. When Sirius gets here."

"_If _he does, James."

"When he does." James' face was set in hard, determined lines, and Peter thought to himself that he was happy that he was his friend. It made things a little bit less hard. And maybe he imagined it, but he thought he saw Severus throwing a quick, jealous glance at them both. He hoped he had imagined it. He felt rotten enough as it was.

The Aurors were already standing around in a tight circle, and a tall man with a mane of grizzled, greying hair was barking orders at them. The stately-looking witch signalled at Severus to come closer. Without intending it, the young man glanced over his shoulder to James and Peter, feeling insecure and confused and hating himself for it. A strong hand landed on his shoulder, and Potter was looking at him, almost calm as he said:

"We're not leaving. Go on."

And even though he shook the hand off and turned haughtily away, Severus still felt a lot better, as disgusting as it was to think of. He seemed incapable of gaining his old composure, of gathering strength and pushing his soul back into the ice. Seeing a dying person apparently did that to you.

He told the Aurors in which direction he had been walking, his voice low and at some points breaking, as he forced himself to speak even though he just wanted to curl up somewhere and never utter a single word again. He couldn't look them in the eye.

No, he didn't know exactly where they were. He had just been walking aimlessly. No, he hadn't made sure that he would find his way back, sorry. He had panicked. Been frightened. He didn't even remember running. Everything was just… blackness. A big, empty, blood-tasting blackness.

"Come on. Give him a break. He doesn't know anything else."

And now Potter was standing by his side, arms crossed over his chest so that the Aurors couldn't see how his hands were trembling. Pettigrew was standing on his other side, quiet as usual, but with rare determination making his face look… older. Severus felt like crying, but bit it down. Not now. Not here. Not so people can see it. Later. When it is all over, when I am alone. Later.

"What the devil is going on here?!"

Severus' world crumbled.

The Aurors, James and Peter turned around to see a man standing in the doorway. He was swaying a bit, his eyes bloodshot, and his skin was shining with the sweating, unhealthy pallor of the heavily hung-over.

"Can someone tell me what the _hell_ you are all doing in my house? Answer me!" His words were a bit slurred, his voice coarse and raw, but the unreasonable anger in his eyes was hot like an anvil and sharp as a knife.

The man that apparently was leading the Aurors stepped forward. "My name is Alastor Moody, sir, and we are Aurors."

The man's gaze became bewildered, and then it fixed on Severus, who still had not turned around, but was staring stiffly at the opposite wall, and he roared with rage. "What have you told them, you miserable brat?!" he howled, and before even one of the Aurors had time to blink, he charged.

"_STUPIFY!"_

Severus' father was hit in the chest by an explosion of red light and flew backwards, his arms spread wide. He hit a wall with a crash, and then sunk to the floor, still as a dummy. Peter and James looked at each other. They both had their wands out, pointing at where Mr Snape had been standing a moment before.

"We might" Peter mumbled "have exaggerated that one the tiniest bit."

Alastor Moody, who had been staring at the drunkard with apparent loathing, gave a small, grim bark of laughter. "Well done, boys." Then he turned to the rest of the Aurors. "And what are you all standing around for?! We have two kids captured by werewolves, and the life of one of them is ticking away as we stand here! _MOVE!_"

xxx

Remus had his arms held back by Fenrir, struggling futilely against his grasp. His body felt strange. Stronger. Heavier. His nails were prolonging, growing thicker and pointier, curling into claws. His mind was an iron-tasting, blood-coloured inferno. He tried to say something, but he found that he could no longer articulate anything more complicated than a growl. He forced his lips into the shape of the words 'Let go', but his throat felt like it belonged to something that only could howl.

"Moony." The voice of his pack leader in his ear was low, controlled. "Moony, listen to me. It is human. It is prey. It has no worth. Remember everything you have learned here. Remember what you are. Don't fight us for it. It's not worth it."

There was a part of Remus that didn't understand the words, that just heard meaningless noises, but the full moon was far off and this part was not as strong as it might have been. Inch by painful inch, Remus regained control of his body. He became limp in Fenrir's iron grasp.

"There. That's good." Fenrir's grip loosened a bit. "Now…"

Remus sank his teeth into his hand.

His teeth had also changed, had gone sharp and long, the teeth of a carnivore. His jaw was stronger. He felt them sinking into the flesh and the bone, felt the taste of blood, and heard his pack leader howl with rage and pain, but that didn't matter anymore. He was free.

His muscles tensed and he sprang, hitting Blackrage in the chest with both hands and forcing him backwards. One flailing hand found the other male's genitals, burrowed its claws and twisted. Blackrage screeched in agony and stumbled backwards, and Remus put his foot down hard in his stomach. Blackrage passed out, and Remus spun around.

Icepaw was staring at him in outrage and shock. Redclaw was still fighting to hold the human still. "GET HIM!" he roared at his stricken brother, and he dropped the human and took a step toward Remus.

There was a flash of whiteness, as a bolt of uncontrolled, lethal magic left the human. Redclaw was lifted off his feet and into the air, spinning madly in a rage of magical flames. The stench of burned flesh filled the air.

Remus saw the eyes of the human rolling, the whites of his eyes shining for a moment in the gloom, before he collapsed forward. And then Icepaw was over him, trying to pin him down, his face twisted by grief and mad fury. And even though Remus clawed and bit and twisted, he knew that he would lose. He was hardly more than a cub, he didn't have a chance against a grown male, not like this.

He heard angry voices, heard the howls, growls and screeches of the rest of the pack. And then something hard hit him over his right temple.

Unconsciousness was immediate.

xxx

Remus woke up by someone hitting him over the face. Pain exploded in his head, his eyes rolled madly and he groaned. Spitting out blood and trembling from shock and a strange coldness, he looked up to see a crescent moon grinning down at him like so many white teeth. Huge shadows were gathered around him. Fenrir's voice came out of the darkness.

"Corruption" it growled mercilessly. "Like a canker eating at a tree, like rottenness turning a flower to dust, like worms eating at a carcass. You are a weakness, a rotten limb, an imperfection. You will be eliminated, to prevent your pervertion from destroying others. Do you understand me?"

Remus whined quietly, and was rewarded with a kick in the ribs. "SILENCE!" someone roared, and the cry was echoed by a hundred other voices, as the rest of the Pack joined in to mock, to condemn, to scream in nameless fury.

Somewhere, he heard children crying, and he recognised Regulus' voice among them, screaming a high-pitched, desperate plea. Bloodbane's voice rose in the shadows, full of anger and scorn.

"Look! _Look!_ He has turned our very cubs against us! So let him die with his unnatural mate!"

Fighting his way up through the hailstorm of blows, Remus managed to pull himself up on his knees, and looked around. The human was bound by the hands, hanging face-down from a low branch. He could see the silver eyes flickering, the lips silently mouthing, the feet uselessly scraping the dirt, and the chest heaving as he desperately fought for every mouthful of air. But there appeared to be no strength in his body to do anything else. And even though he knew for certain he was going to die, Remus felt a sudden mad urge to throw his own body at the pack members that were tormenting him, poking him with sharp sticks until he bled, throwing stones at him.

Instead he crawled, inch by inch, until he was beside the human, trying vainly to shield him as much as he could with his own body. What was left of what he had once been wanted to tear the hateful creature apart with his own hands. But you couldn't hurt a mate. And as he saw the tears of quiet gratitude in the human's eyes, he knew that this was the only thing he could do. This was the only thing he could _be_.

He could hear the outrage of the others, but that didn't matter anymore. He lifted his gaze to the moon and covered his eyes in homage. "Let us hunt… in another world…" he whispered, as he remembered Fenrir doing over the dying of the pack. A screech of rage told him someone had heard, and a rock hit him painfully in the forehead. He turned his gaze down to find the thrower. As he did, he noticed something strange in the forest. Fleeting shadows, dark against the darkness, yet moving in the unmistakable way of…

"_Humans!"_

He drew breath to shout a warning at his pack, but it was too late. Light, red and yellow and some few bursts of green, exploded in the forest. One of the pack members fell backwards, his head colliding heavily with Remus'.

_No_, Remus thought, but the darkness took him away.

xxx

**Alex: **Don't you just _LOVE_ cliff-hangers?

**Lotte: **Yes, people. It is entirely possible that she is the devil.


End file.
